


Heresiarch

by Laeiphy



Category: Black Desert Online (Video Game)
Genre: Breeding, Cartian's Black Spirit Is A Massive Dick, Dick As Punishment, Everyone Sucks Here, F/M, Hadum Is A Massive Dick, Horrified Pearl Abyss Sounds, I'm Going to Hell, Inappropriate Use Of Black Spirits, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21906199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeiphy/pseuds/Laeiphy
Summary: In Christian theology, a heresiarch or arch-heretic is an originator of heretical doctrine, or the founder of a sect that sustains such a doctrine.Hadum is displeased and Illezra pays the price of his attention.
Relationships: Illezra/Hadum | God of Darkness
Kudos: 10





	Heresiarch

**Author's Note:**

> For [Arduanatt on Tumblr](https://arduanatt.tumblr.com/), blessed shipper of Black Spirit/Protag and resident Black Desert loremaster.

_He answer thus return’d:_

_“The arch-heretics are here, accompanied_

_By every sect their followers; and much more_

_Than thou believest, the tombs are freighted: like_

_With like is buried; and the monuments_

_Are different in degrees of heat.”_

\- _Canto IX, The Divine Comedy, Dante Alighieri_

* * *

She shrieked, falling to the floor in agony, body convulsing and back arched in pain.

Illezra inhaled once before she could scream, clutching her stomach so tight that her fingers were white, bile in the back of her mouth. She was on a familiar castle floor, ripples of residual pain shivering through her body. The realm’s quiet, unnatural silence broken by naught, pulsed deep weight against her ears.

Dread rose deep inside her heart, stronger than the agony of being reborn.

Cartian was there, his form reduced to a small black symbiote, floating above her. He broadcasted only disapproving concern and (as much as he tried to keep it hidden, but she felt it regardless) their own shared phantom pain from the killing blow. It was comforting in some ways, Cartian’s solid foundational anger.

 _Damn Edana and his blasted spirit, and his blasted vessel,_ she mumbled. _And damn myself twice._

She knew where she was, clarity sharpening with her own fear, her fingers numbly pulling apart her voluminous robes and ties to bare her body to the nipping chill of Hadum’s castle.

Her body was covered in the dark lord’s work. The god’s sigils burnt deep into her skin as he healed every pain and death that came to her mortal body, and then some for enhancement and binding. The sigil for spirit, she knew also rested on the body of Edana’s vessel.

And the sigil for the newest, final mortal blow on her body was uniquely Hadum. The weapon had pierced through her robes, her defense lacking in practice against the vessel’s unusual new fighting prowess. Edana’s weapon had penetrated her right below the center of her breasts, sinking into the soft and tender meat with joyous sin. And oh, what work Hadum had wielded to heal her this time. Darkness, black burns: dainty swirls and sigils promising retribution worked into the design that spilled out from the puckered, healed wound like a brush on canvas. It had spread upwards to cup her breasts, swirling and twisting from the insertion point. Her failure was healed, but dark ink sketched Hadum’s claim further onto her skin.

A tiny trickle of tears began to flow, rolling down her cheeks to merge to the floor in offering. She collapsed back on her back, and Illezra weakly slammed her fist into the cool tile flooring, robes spread around her in twisted fabric. Her failure, and Hadum’s own terrible, terrible power.

Nothing good has ever come from an audience with the god of death.

Ripped from the soft, warm comfort of un-being, Hadum had brought forth his will yet again, that she would not die until His purpose was complete.

And Illezra had foolishly thought herself above these mortal concerns. She was untouchable, she had Cartian’s spirit residing within her, Hadum’s own favored son. She had ripped the secrets of Tarif straight from Ahon’s splintering pain, and bound Kzarka to her own will.

 _Mother screamed,_ Kzarka cooed softly, and she pushed away its intrusive thoughts in disgust.

And yet she was felled yet again, by Edana’s spirit and their little new toy, as if the past years of her power were nothing. She was here, in a twisted whole version of Cron Castle yet again, in audience with the god of darkness who would decide her punishment and her complete humiliation for failing.

Cartian was simmering with ever-present anger behind her own thoughts, his own body reduced to tendrils of muted power. She knew the spirit was unstable, views she carefully kept to herself to avoid his ire. But her soul’s addition, the fragmented being was even more powerful in Hadum’s domain than in her own world.

Even as she watched, he merged and blurred before her eyes, twisting long strings of darkness toward himself. The dark cloud phased through several evolutions, months of her time but a bare minutes to him in this world. The spirit finally settled into a slender bodied, yet smokey figure.

Cartian, looked like how Illezra would imagine the sorceress Cartian would have appeared, but with a distinctly male jawline and wild hair spun out of darkness. A cloak wrapped around his new body, again tugged from the darkness-- distinctly Tariffian.

Another thought Illezra kept to herself.

Her eyes focused again, not on Cartian carefully inspecting his newly formed body, but on the arching roof that seemed to be part of the sky itself. Smoke, as impossible as it was, twirled inside the entryway in dance and welcome. It reached upward, dark brick in mimicry of Cron Castle, to an open roof that showed nothing but dark sky. No stars in Hadum’s mirrored world.

The castle lay untouched in Hadum’s world, undestroyed. It seemed fitting the god would make his residence here. Illezra knew the stories and knew the bloodbaths and destruction Bartali had wracked upon the region in his own rage and darkness. Power, she knew, darkness and light both bled forwards and backwards between their dimensions. As easy as Sages could slip through and bend the universe to their will, Hadum had distorted the dark power to form back the Castle and twist it into his own residence.

She pulled herself off the floor, loosely tying back her robes and pushed fingers through the new hole in the layers, reaching all the way down to expose the new tattoo to the air. The exit, and entry of Edana’s weapon.

“He awaits.” Cartian murmured. The spirit sauntered down the hall, walking with silent footsteps. Her own echoed down the hall behind him, off the walls and the responding click of her staff on tile. She carefully lifted up her hood, taking comfort in the darkness and covering. It wouldn’t help her hid from Hadum, not in his own realm and certainly not in his own castle. But it would bring her strength as she faced him down again.

None of her meetings with the god of death was easy, or painless. There was never a meeting where she wasn’t wholly, completely destroyed. She was never sent back without a tremor that would last for weeks, or a bad knee that would ache and ache every step she took, or a new deep-rooted fear for Elion and his priests. Her nails dug into her cloak at even the thought.

The reaching double doors, thick and tight, framed the end of the hallway. The duo reached it much faster than Illezra would prefer, and the doors swung open without even a sound to break the endless hush of Hadum’s own realm.

Inside the throne room, he was center stage. The man, if one could call his form just simply a man, was massive. Much larger than anyone had the right to be, and yet he lounged slouching across the throne. As corruptible as power was, Hadum wore it well with darkness spiraling from him, narrowed red eyes mounted above a proud, smug face.

There was no one else in the massive room, his court dismissed for whatever he planned to do. She was not part of his court, for she was His and nothing more than a tool. And so their meetings were in silence and empty cavernous throne rooms. And Cartian, of course, the spirit drifting along beside her in silence.

She reached the throne’s pedestal and gently kneeled down on the tile. She bowed her head, hands in her lap, watching slightly as Cartian beside her simply gave a deep bow and remained standing.

This close to the god, his terrible fire spread further and lashed harder than anything else in Illezra’s whole world. Her heart beat faster in her chest. He was terrifying, he was darkness, he was god, and Illezra had the distinctive feeling of _wrongness_ in her presence here.

“Child…” Hadum said. He reached out with a dark finger of power, to brush against Cartian. The spirit only wavered where he stood, his own form blurring, losing focus and intense pleasure rushing through the spirit’s bond with her. Illezra’s face flushed, and she was thankful for the hood to cover her opened lips.

The spirit’s rage calmed, less of a raging storm and more the gentle rain of a spring day. Cartian’s gripping rage released her soul for a few blessed moments.

For one brief moment, she wished for that rushing feeling to continue forever. But Hadum’s focus shifted from the rapidly dissolving spirit, and she felt the power tear itself away from Cartian and focus its sharpened needles upon her body. Cartian’s rage slammed back into her like a thousand strikes of swords.

She shivered, it was her own desolation.

“Illezra…” Hadum oozed, dark strings of power rippling along his body in irritation. One tendril reached out, as if hesitantly, to brush down her face and pull down her cloak’s hood. “Why do you fail me so, again?”

Illezra couldn’t meet his red eyes from where she kneeled, as if she would look up and the dark lord would reach into her body and claim her soul to consume once and for all. There was no excuse she could give him, except the terrible truth. No lie would save her, no twisting of the facts. And she knew Cartian held no loyalty for her, even after all these years.

He’d after all, loved another.

Hadum’s gaze raked her form, and she remembered where she was.

“I was caught off guard, my lord.” she said barely above sotto, her eyes squeezed closed in shame. She swallowed before continuing. “They have changed, _he_ has changed them yet again, and I was… tricked.”

The sentence was delivered weakly, as if Hadum had stopped the words in her mouth and yet she persisted in saying them out loud. Cartian remained silent, not even in amusement at her begging on knees toward the god of darkness himself. To save herself from anything he would think to dish out.

Hadum looked up with his bloody eyes, in some mockery of praying to himself. “Ah yes, my wayward son yet again meddling. I thought my dear would have been smart –” here Hadum gave a nasty little smile “– enough to figure out how he had done it, and profited from it yourself.”

“She never did.” Cartian offered unprompted.

Illezra stiffened. She knew her spirit was angry; his power was so quickly offered to be exorcised in adherence to Hadum’s grand plots.

But he had never been this callous in front of the god of darkness, especially when Hadum had already made it clear he was highly displeased with another demise of hers. Was he intentionally trying to get her killed, this time permanently? Cartian’s rage was still an ocean, unreadable.

Hadum spoke, this time his voice tinged with annoyance. “You have failed yet again. _Tricked_. It seems the great Kzarka’s soul is not yet enough to combat base human stupidities, isn’t it?”

“No, my lord.” Illezra bit her tongue.

His fronds of dark power rose from his body in dangerous black strokes of power. His body stilled for a moment, snapping like tense fabric in the wind, and she prayed for anything but what was to come.

“I didn’t ask you.” Hadum spat out. He finally looked decisive, and stood up from the throne, great folds of his own power building to form a longer, black cloak to cover his ever-shifting human form. Still, he was taller in human form than any human had the right to be. Illezra had seen giants, the mutations of unblessed couplings, with less height and space than Hadum possessed.

“Begone.” he hissed darkly towards Cartian, dismissing the spirit.

“My lord.” Cartian’s eyes were red and unfeeling, but Illezra caught more anger flashing like hot pain, Cartian’s spirit-rage ripping through her own body.

 _What._ she thought to herself. _He is displeased to be dismissed from my own punishment? Vindictive little weasel-scat of a spirit._ She seized down on his lingering spirit-rage, pulling it closer to feed the ever hungry Kzarka residing within her own soul.

She didn’t turn her head to watch Cartian walk back down the room, to the doors. His feet paused for a second, if looking for final confirmation he was not wanted, before the door slammed shut behind him in echoing booms. The door’s slamming reverb had not even finished before the god of darkness was on top of her, engulfing her entire body in Hadum’s own spirit-rage.

And oh, she hated him and his rage, and his power, and his pain that he brought her. The god of darkness could embrace like a mother to a child— _Ahon smiling at her, eyes crinkling with joy at Illezra’s newfound forest friend_ —and bring upon the pain of her own memories and Hadum’s own version of spirit-rage all at once. The dark tendrils looked for any place to grip her, her mouth, her arms, her body and across skin, darkness weaving into her robes, down the hole left by the vessel’s mortal blow and still further it pushed to hold her tight.

Every feeler brought a rush of pain across wherever it touched and she would scream if he wasn’t holding her mouth open, fronds reaching around her mouth to grip both lips and plunge down her throat.

Cartian’s spirit-rage felt small and inconsequence compared to the grandeur and sheer _impossibleness_ of Hadum’s own. It was anguish, it ruined her, and there was no escape.

It was despair, it was the hissing sotto pain of dawn to the god of darkness, it was flashes of dark cold nights and numb fingertips, it was ripping through her body— _she was_ _stabbed and the vessel of Hadum’s own son reflected her own shocked face. Their eyes, so full of hatred just before, was wide and innocent. The weapon sliding back out from underneath her breasts, slick with red, red blood. Cartian screamed, he taking over her mouth as the pain seeped through their bond, and she could only follow as ice hot pain resonated around her body. Poison. Or power, or some new trick, this new weapon._

_The vessel never had switched weapons before, and yet here they stood holding her shining doom, stained ruby with her life, unfamiliar weapon carefully held in their hand. Hadum’s wayward son stared back, Edana’s spirit resting just above the vessel’s body but yet connected as firmly as a lover held their own partner._

_And yet the vessel wielded the weapon with familiarity, with neat movements and small adjustments only years of practice could produce. She looked down, Cartian’s screaming strangling off, as the wound sprouted petals of red and her own self. And the gods, it hurt, and it wrenched through her very soul_ —and it was the darkness of the moon, and she didn’t know _who_ she was anymore.

Illezra screamed but it made no sound, and she couldn’t tell if it was reliving yet again her own death, or Cartian’s pain, or her own agony from Hadum’s greedy tendrils across her body and thrusting across her entire body with pain. Who was she? Was she Cartian; or his previous mistress, _wink of black hair_ within her mind. Was she Illezra; small Illezra as _Ahon brushed her hair_ _softly_ , or Illezra, goddess of darkness, vessel of Cartian, or Illezra-of-Hadum-darkness-misery, his own tendrils ripping out of her body and from her gullet in one terrible, painful _squelch_.

She slouched over onto the floor, choking for air her only thought. Hadum’s version of getting the full story and of punishing her in one fell swoop, was never so violent as it was then.

And he still wasn’t pacified, as he would have been from before. From the other times she had failed, he had engulfed her body and ripped through every muscle and fiber, and left her to lay on the floor until she dismissed herself and stumbled out of the throne room. Or Cartian had dragged her out to punish her more, after Cokro. The first time she had failed to beat Edana’s spirit, to suck it into her own body.

She’d hidden the worst of the plan from Cartian. She would have stuck him in the vessel’s body, and taken Edana’s spirit as her own. But the vessel and the spirit had chosen themselves over her own master’s plans, and that scene was her blood covering the tile floor as Hadum watched his son.

But Hadum had not backed off after his spirit-rage was pacified, and his dark aura whipped around with unfelt wind. It reminded her of the second part of the Coko punishment, but Cartian had been dismissed. Instead, Hadum crouched down in front of her, leaning forward to grab her jaw and pull her up from her fetal position on the tile. She choked for air.

Illezra rose up with his hand, suffocating as his claws dug into the skin around her jawbone. She couldn’t seem to draw a breath, in between his stuffing of her throat and Hadum’s own heavy rage throughout the room.

“I have given you everything, my love.” he mocked, red eyes wide with delight at her struggle to breathe. “My son as your own, my secrets of the Ancients, and release from the sands of time. And all I ask,” he smiled darkly. “Is that you bring Edana’s spirit to heel.”

Her hands came up to his own dark appendage, grasping, pulling, trying to rip herself from his grasp.

“And yet at that trivial task you fail again and again… what shall I do with you, little human?” he said, gesturing with the same black hand, as if her own presence was not enough to weigh his motions down.

He released Illezra suddenly, body dropped to the floor as black spots raced across her vision. She plummeted pitiless onto the cold tile, gasping for sweet air. Trembling, Illezra rolled to her back for more airflow, her chest heaving, every part of her body painful and tender.

His lip slightly snarled in contemplative disgust. Her brown eyes closed, she couldn’t bare to look upon Hadum towering above her.

“We clearly need something else to show you the error of your ways.” Hadum said from right above her, and the sudden closeness of his voice made her eyes fly open in surprise. Black tendrils reached down again, this time to bind her wrists and shoulders, pressing them against the floor. At the same time, his black hands carefully parted open her robe bindings, the layers parting like petals to a rose being pulled apart one by one. Illezra fought him, but Hadum’s own body was powerful and casually held her struggling body down without even appearing out of place.

She sucked in a breath and opened her mouth, to either scream or plead, and Hadum’s eyes flashed alarmingly at her motion. A thicker frond shoved into her mouth, through her parted lips. It rested there, unyielding to her tongue, unable to reach up for his hold on her hands.

He chuckled as her bare body was finally exposed to the cold throne room’s air, round firm breasts heaving through her attempts at breathing. The tattoos, his own sigils, crossed across her entire undressed self. The newest one, the one under her bosom and cupping the two round balls of flesh, Hadum eyed with no little disguised delight. His hand slowly swirled across the sensitive skin around her left breast along the newest tattoo, grinning up at her in delight as endorphins raced unwanted through her body.

“Do you like the patterns of my power? Every time you fall, you come back more of me.” Hadum jeered, the pad of one finger tracing along the swirling pattern, going up, up, across her nipple and then squeezing and pulling up. “I’m proud of this latest one.”

She accidentally caressed the tendril in her mouth in the surprise of having herself stroked, in a disgustingly sexual motion, and Hadum carefully kneaded her other breast as well. His fingers twisted and firmly stroked around her most sensitive places. Tears in her eyes, yet pleasure.

She tried to twist out of his grasp, out away from his wonderfully horribly talented fingers. Hadum just “ _tsked_ ” and added more of his tendrils to sweep up and down her body, setting it afire and binding it tight to his will as her own soul already was. But this was not the pain of the spirit rage, but tinged with his own pleasure and domination.

He finally let up, his body letting the suddenly even colder chill rush across her skin. But the tendrils still held her bound to the tile floor, and she looked up in confusion.

The god of darkness was blurring like her eyes were open underwater, his entire cloak shifting and flowing outwards to sweep across the room. Illezra lay frozen, her bonds forgotten. Hadum stretched leisurely, as if beginning to dive into a feast. He half-smiled down at her, his sudden member poking out from the cloak.

He did not disrobe any further, already gripping his free cock as it stiffly pointed upwards through the folds. Illezra was prone on the ground, stuck on her back as the god’s plan came forward with clarity and dawning horror. The dark tendrils of his power pulled her legs further apart, pushing up the bundled robe which had coiled and twisted down below during his disregarded unwrapping of herself previously. She couldn’t even fight the tendrils harshly manipulating her body for the dark lord’s own pleasure, her eyes were locked on his cock in sickened realization.

“And thus, this is what it has come to, my love.” Hadum laughed darkly. “A bit pathetic, but I am nothing but firm in my advice.”

The stiff cock was obscene, matching Hadum’s human form in scale, and certainly not anything that could have a hope of entering her body. Even with his god-sized hands, the cock’s engorged head poked further out than his fingers could grip.

“Absolutely impossible.” Illezra breathed, but the god still heard. He laughed again, this time full of shade and terrible arousal. He said nothing more, but his handsome face had a new expression on it that Illezra couldn’t place for a brief moment.

It was lust, written as easily on his face as any other of his emotions. The god had set this up, her failure, for him to take his way with her.

And she struggled against his fingers, cool and cold, as they first trailed up the inside of her thigh. He stroked upward, her foot instinctively lashing out to kick at his body, but being tugged back down by another solid inky tentacle of Hadum’s power.

Hadum’s fingers delightfully stroked her slit, and she arched up at the touch, foreign and dark. She would have screamed, cried for help, if she knew that Cartian would come tear her away from Hadum. But her mouth was full of shifting fronds of blackest night, and she thought deep down inside, that the spirit would only be delighted to observe her instead of saving her.

The witch’s clitoris strained upwards through her folds, normally hidden away but exposed by questing fingers. It was plump and healthy, and a single finger was inserted slowly to the knuckle as Illezra bucked upwards, thrashing her hips away from her in futility.

Hadum only gripped her tighter, squeezing white trails upon her flesh, and watched his own finger with cruel amazement. His finger rocked in and out of her, and he quickly added another cold finger as her slick began to run in forced arousal. It was delightful and horrible at the same time.

Illezra fought him the entire time, as much as her bound body could. But he also brought forth spasms of pleasure, rocking through her still-aching body. Hadum laughed again as his cold fingers curled up and Illezra felt a spear of intense pleasure jolting through her, his thumb carefully stroking her clit with its rough pad.

He finished with his cock, stroking it once more to bring out more pre-cum. It decorated the fat head, aching and taunt for her exposed slit. Everything on Illezra was cold, his fingers and her breasts and her stomach, but her slit was warm and slick. It dripped onto the floor as Hadum pulled out his fingers from her gripping hole.

“Perhaps, we might yet make another son out of this.” Hadum said, breathlessly. “But this will teach you an important lesson in how I expect to be served.”

His hand, the one with two fingers covered with her slick, brushed over her lips in cruel bruising mockery of a lover’s caress.

“Don’t worry, it will fit. Or we will make room, together.” he whispered.

His lips danced across her ear, one small tendril stroking it in absence of his hand. She jerked her head away from it, but Hadum only smiled against her ear and grudgingly pulled away.

The head of his massive penis pulsed against her tight entrance, and its size difference was mocking in its overwhelming arousal. Illezra pressed her eyes shut, unwilling to watch, but gasped and opened them as Hadum pinched a nipple with a hiss. In anger, he grabbed her thighs and pulled her hips higher to make his plunging entrance easier.

Hadum separated her lips open with two thumbs, brushing over her clitoris again with a smirk and a rush of pleasure through her body. She was helpless, bound, unable to even move except thrashing around, her head thrown back and eyes pleading.

The cock breached Illezra’s hole, and she twisted under his hands as it tried to squeeze in too fast, way too large, and it felt she was already full. No other cock’s head alone had made tears peek at the edge of her vision, and Hadum let out a growl, twisting and pushing his hips as his member made its terrible introduction to Illezra.

And then the cock was in, and she tried to scream in the tearing, opening pain.

She could do nothing but take it, her keens and moans muffled by the tendril. _It was too big_ , she needed to cry to him. She knew he could change his size at will, that he had made this her shame and her pain intentionally. And yet it made more progress down her tight channel, bringing new waves of pain and pleasure in equal gasps of her breath.

Hadum groaned with the effort, his red eyes half-lidded in concentration.

It dug in deeper and deeper, forced forward by the god’s will. More of the cock rested outside of her weeping precum filled slit, but Hadum began to slowly thrust in and out, making more room and forcing her further upon the massive cock. Her insides were slick with an unnatural amount of his precum, lubricating every deeper and deeper thrust. Illezra squirmed, her cunt overfilled and overstimulated.

He punished her cunt with thick, powerful thrusts and the cock yet went deeper in sickening pounds. It somehow felt good, more than good, pleasurable to Illezra, and still she hated every painful thrust as her cunt was forced apart with more power than any one had previously been inside of her before.

She was not new to lovers, but Hadum’s prick was intentionally larger than any human cock, and oversized even to the cocks of her fantasies of late nights and self-pleasure. It was nothing of her forcing another man to set the pace for her, their coupling was strictly about Hadum and his overwhelming presence inside of her.

Finally, Hadum’s balls pressed deep within her, thrust after thrust, and she felt tears fall finally as he stilled for a moment, as if even surprised that he had fit. Her opening lay gaping and stretched around his entire cock, tight and taunt. Deep inside, Illezra spasmed for a second and her inside gripped tighter to his invasion. Hadum moaned then, shaky and hunched over.

He pulled back, out, out, out and then slammed back into her with such force she was pushed forward and back across the floor. It was torture, and Illezra’s slit gushed out precum and her own body’s lubrication on every thrust out of her hole. He went faster and faster, uncaring of her cries and her gasps as his cock was too large, too fast.

She felt him tense, Hadum’s hips rocketing forward to finally sheath himself inside of her with a snap. At the same time, he threw back his head and howled, spurting the largest load of cum up into Illezra as he came. Her body tensed at the violation, unintentionally squeezing more gushes of creamy cum out of his cock and inside of her.

Hadum held her down and in place, snarling as he primally ejected everything that had worked up inside of him. It was a flood, an unending torrent of thick juice, of a god’s pleasure. It worked its way out of her tightened entrance, slowly dripping down for lack of anywhere else to go.

Illezra lay lax on the floor as Hadum pulled out, slowly. A gush of even more cum slipped out of her, and she choked back a sob. Her cunt ached, her body sore from his previous torture, and any explanation for what this scene was. His darkness had slowly released her body, and was just hovering back and forth over her skin, ready to pounce upon her if she fought.

The thickest frond in her mouth pulled out with almost a forlorn brush to her teeth and lips as it parted, a long stream of saliva following it out. What point was there to thrash around anymore, or to scream? She felt empty inside, except for the burning heat inside of her stretched slit.

Illezra wasn’t even sure if she could mother children, her body long since warped by dark rituals and Hadum’s own meddling, but still the endless river of cum dripping along the throne room’s tile reminded her of her gaping hole and her sacrilege.

The god of darkness stood, his softening cock dripping with her own vaginal slick mixing with the thick white cum roping and sliding off in decadent drops. He carefully blurred himself again, the penis being tucked back into a flowing robe, manifesting as some mockery of a royal cloak of pure darkness. He loomed over her yet again.

“If you fail to take, I require Edana’s spirit delivered to me.” Hadum cooed at her.

A tendril wiped her abused slit with the faintest of touches. She still jerked at the touch, sprawled on the floor, his seed spilling out of her in drips and splashes to mar the perfectly tiled floor.

He then casually stepped over her body on the floor, as one would step over an open street gutter, and sauntered away and out of the room without a sound. The double doors opened as he walked, and stayed open long after he disappeared out of her sight down another hallway.

She supposed the open door was her dismissal. She shakily rose up from the ground, almost slipping in the ribbons of white that slicked down the floor. Illezra pulled her outside cloak around her naked body, shivering as the warmth reminded her of the cum burning inside of her and the ever-present chill of Hadum’s dimension.

The other layers would need to be burnt, she would arrange a new outfit later. Mending the fatal blow would have been embarrassing enough, but Hadum’s defilement slicking the black fabric with shiny white streams and puddles would be impossible to explain.

She would need more time to reflect on this later, the violation coming as untimely as her own rebirth, and her defeat at the hand of Edana’s vessel. The worst part was the pleasure that Hadum had created with just his falsely gentle contact.

Illezra was just out of the doors, when they slammed shut behind her. The sound startled her, and she turned around to find Cartian standing motionless in the center of the entryway. The spirit was unusually contemplative, perhaps if he had heard what had gone down in the throne room after his expulsion.

But she had been bound, unable to scream. Unless the spirit was actively possessing her, he was unable to grasp the exact memories of her experiences without her opening herself up to him.

“Did you and Father have a nice talk?” Cartian said sotto, his voice pitched lower than normal in annoyance. He handed her back her staff irritated. It must have clattered to the floor at some point in the throne room, and the spirit had liberated it from its resting place to return to her. She hadn’t noticed its absence, but now felt the familiar rush of power.

“He did much of the talking.” Illezra said briskly, gripping her staff hard enough to see the whites of her knuckles. To hide the part of her that wished to fall to the floor and crumble over, ruined.

Cartian kept pace with her exit, floating softly along in his full human form. “We all play our parts in his plans.” he said solemnly.

Illezra chewed on the thought for a moment. _Was it Hadum’s intention to use my body as the mother to a new, more powerful spirit?_ she deliberated. _Or was it simply some new form of humiliation, of my debasement for his amusement and satisfaction._

 _Or,_ she halted, halfway to the swirling portal that would lead her back to the human realm. The thought was disquieting enough to need her full concentration. Cartian stopped, angry swirls of his power snapping with irritation at her deliberations.

“What is it?” he snapped.

 _Or maybe Hadum wanted_ both _._

She shuddered.


End file.
